Sometimes Rain Needs to Fall
by crazylittleelf
Summary: A rain storm and an SUV.


They rolled to a stop in front of the house, and Olivia killed the engine. Walter had turned all the lights on again, every single one of them, and a little smile tugged at Peter's lips. Even through the rain, the house looked warm and inviting. Peter was never sure if Walter was doing that for his own benefit or for Peter's. Once upon a time Peter would have asked, but now he was too gun shy of answers to seek them out willingly.

The air inside the SUV was close and muggy, sound muffled by the white noise of the rain pounding down on it. It smelled of wet hair and the damp wool of her jacket, the faint scent of her shampoo. Peter leaned back in his seat, content to just sit for a moment and close his eyes after a hellish day. The lightning was painfully bright even though his eyelids, and the thunder that followed was deep and jarring, rattling against the sides of the vehicle. He heard the shift in her breathing: sharp intake at the lightning, quickening pace at the thunder. Someone else might think it was fear, but Peter knew her better than that.

Peter glanced at her, sidelong across the front seat of the SUV, without lifting his head from the back of the seat. The rain was filtering the light from the streetlamp to a dim blue hue that flickered across her face. She was leaning forward, looking up into the storm, intent on the sky. She ignored him completely. They had argued earlier, a familiar fight, how she was too reckless, too fearless. She scared him sometimes. Her thumb tapped against the steering wheel, moving in some complicated rhythm that belied her protests that she wasn't musically inclined. She showed no sign that she was actually going to leave the vehicle and come inside with him.

She didn't seem inclined to kick him out into the rain and go back to her apartment, either, so he took that as a good sign.

They'd given up on keeping things just work, just professional, months ago, but it was still a shaky thing between them. That they both had trust issues was an understatement. They were trying though, both of them, to figure out how to meet in the middle of the wreckage of past relationships, old hurts, old scars. There were still moments when he was sure she was ready to bolt.

There were moments when he was sure that he was ready to bolt.

Peter unfastened his seatbelt and turned towards her. "You coming inside?"

The frown was a tiny thing, barely noticeable, and it was only from years of familiarity that Peter caught it at all. She didn't move, and when the next burst of thunder shook the car, her tongue flicked over her lower lip. His eyes followed the movement.

"Just gonna go home? You could get caught up on sleep."

She tilted her head slightly. On the steering wheel her thumb stilled its motion.

He watched her for a moment before twisting in the seat to look behind him. "You wanna crawl in the backseat and make out?"

This drew a smile from her. It was a reluctant one, starting with a pursing of her lips before she actually smiled. The laugh that followed lifted her shoulders. She let her head fall back, then roll towards him. The smile was that uncertain one she got when she felt trapped. Vulnerable. It made his chest ache.

He reached across the small space to run his fingers over her cheek, trace the line of her jaw. The smile faded. She looked away from him, out the side window. He dropped his hand and waited, and when she spoke her voice was barely audible over the din of the storm.

"When I was little - I think I was seven - we went camping. My mom, my step-dad, Rachel, all of us. We went out to a lake, and there were a bunch of families from the base, so there were lots of kids and it was so much fun. We even had our own tent. Me and Rachel." She smiled at the steering wheel.

"The last night we were there it stormed, really badly. The wind blew the tents down and we all got in the car. Rachel was terrified. Mom was too, but I loved it. I thought it was the best thing ever. I crawled up in the front seat so I could see better. He was watching too, watching the storm." She frowned. "When it thundered, mom and Rachel both held their ears, but he didn't." She chuffed out a little laugh, the one he knew was an attempt to hold off tears. "I didn't either. I wasn't afraid of the storm at all, just like him."

He wondered at their inability to catch a break, either one of them. Why their pasts were always being flung in their faces, reminders of pain that defined them. "'Livia. You're not like him."

He saw her swallow, duck her head in a short nod. "Yeah." She ran her fingers over the steering wheel, tracing a seam with her thumbnail. "Yeah, but I am."

He reached for her again and caught her hand in his. "Hey." She dropped her eyes to their hands, rubbed her thumb against his fingers. Her skin was rough, ragged from her picking at it absently, nervously. She looked back towards him after a long moment. The rain-dimmed light leeched the color from her face, left her eyes flat and gray.

He squeezed her hand before saying, "We're whoever we want to be. They don't get to make those choices for us anymore."

"Do you really believe that?" She was watching him closely now, searching his face.

It was his turn to laugh, a humorless sound. He looked towards the house, the inviting lights a false promise of safety. She was frowning when he turned back to her, lines of doubt and worry creasing her forehead. He smiled at her, open and honest. "I have to."

She tightened her fingers around his and smiled. He leaned across the space between them and brushed his lips against hers, smiled against her mouth. "Come inside with me."

She nodded, pressed her lips to his in a quick kiss, before she opened the door and slipped out of the car. He looped his arm around her shoulders and they ran towards the house together, heads ducked against the rain.


End file.
